The Waiting Game
by Scribblery
Summary: The third time they meet, she is free.
1. Chapter 1

The first time they meet, she is barely a child.

* * *

He is flying, yet again. He does that a lot – over trees, mountains, lakes; wherever the wind takes him. He doesn't know and doesn't care at all about where he ends up.

All that matters is that he has fun, wherever he lands.

* * *

As he languidly drifts past a small village, he spies a young boy getting chided by his mother, her voice ringing shrilly through the still autumn air. Too far away to hear them, he isn't sure what the boy did, but he remains sympathetic towards the child anyway. Adults just don't know how to lighten up sometimes, he thinks, and this is one of the reasons he is grateful for his immortality. There will be no growing up, no responsibilities, and there will _definitely_ be nobody, much less any meddling parents, to dictate what he should do with his life.

No one can see him anyway.

Chuckling slightly, he turns his attention away from the mother and child to observe his surroundings. He has landed in a quaint little village next to the harbour, with tiny brick houses, winding paths, and the occasional villager waddling up and down the cobbled stone floors, on and about his daily errands. It is still early, and the sun is barely risen over the horizon, which, he realises, is dotted with tiny fishing boats and large sailing ships. A town crier is hollering a few streets away, and he can barely make out the words – something about "Queen Marie", "birth", and "Princess Anna". A sign hangs crookedly next to the door of the nearest store, proudly proclaiming in large, faded print – "Arendelle's Finest Pastries".

He hovers nearer to the bakery, enticed by smell of flour and bread permeating the air. Ah, someone has displayed a small selection of baked goods outside the shop, evidently intending to tempt the morning crowd. _So, Arendelle huh_, he grins, nicking a particularly delectable looking pastry off the trays. This is one of the first time he's flown to any Scandinavian country, and he's liking the place already.

Turning around, he notices a castle looming in the distance, and he is intrigued.

* * *

Surrounded comfortably by a mountain range, the castle is beautiful, if unassuming. It is particularly well-decorated, with green streamers fluttering from the top of the turrets and banners hanging from every wall. Guests are trickling into the premises through the massive gates, dressed in their finest, and he guesses that there is going to be an event later on. Maybe something to do with the Princess Anna? Unconcerned, he decides to embark on his own personal tour of the castle. Maybe there'll be food inside.

Grinning mischievously, he sneaks into the castle, blatantly disregarding the "No Entry" sign hanging in front of the massive oak doors.

The castle's modest outer appearance definitely belies its impressive interior design, and he is awestruck by the intricate architecture of the rooms and the masterfully painted portraits that adorn almost every inch of the aged walls. Pretty soon, he is lost in the complex maze of corridors and archways, admiring the way the sunlight illuminates the stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscopes of colours all over the cold stone floors. He cautiously pokes his head into room after room, and notices that all of them are unoccupied.

Save one.

He is stopped in his tracks by a pair of innocent blue eyes peering curiously at him over the drop-side of a cot, and his heart skips a beat. Against his better judgement, he cautiously enters the room. Sapphire eyes follow his every footstep inquisitively, and he realises that they belong to a little girl, who can barely be more than two years old. She is evidently trying to stand upright, but she is unsteady on her two feet and has to hold on to the sides of the cot for support. He approaches her and pokes her cheek with an icy cold finger.

"Hello little one, what are you doing here all alone?"

Startled, she loses her balance and lands on the mattress with a soft thump. He cringes at his mistake and makes to check if she is alright, but she gives him a toothless smile and giggles. He unconsciously laughs back in response, relishing this unfamiliar experience. How long has it been since someone had looked directly at him like that? How long has it been since he had not been ignored, cast away as non-existent, tossed away as an act of nature? Never, if he can recall.

Just then, an idea strikes him, and he conjures up a snowflake in his palm.

"Hey kiddo, how would you like to see some magic?"

* * *

Footsteps echo briskly along the corridor outside and he jumps up in shock, as though awakened from a dream. She gargles unconcernedly, and grabs his staff, which he had been baiting her with. He manages to wrestle it out of her grasp in time before a maid enters the room.

"Elsa, honey, it's time for the party," the maid coos, "We're going to get you all nice and dressed up now."

Elsa stares at him with dismay apparent in her eyes, and made to point at him.

"Snow… Man! Snowman!"

"What is it dear?" The maid is preoccupied with picking the child up and tidying up the place, and dismisses Elsa's incoherent blabbers distractedly. "No, there aren't any snowmen around here, dear. I'll take you out to build a snowman in the winter, alright?"

With that, they were out of the door.

He smiles faintly in the wake of their leaving, and absentmindedly twirls his staff, not noticing the light dust of snow coating the length where Elsa had grabbed. Sighing, he opens the window and leaps out into the wind, suddenly feeling exhausted.

_Wait for me, Elsa_. _I'll be back to play with you before you know it_.

* * *

AN: Hi all! I'm just a casual fan of both movies and am definitely not a fiction writer (much less a fanfiction writer) so please forgive 1) out-of-characterness 2) inconsistent timelines and 3) distorted facts! (this was the result of a particularly annoying plot bunny that had been wasting disk space in my brain)  
Other than that, since this is one of my first times writing fiction (especially in present tense), constructive criticism on the language is welcome (so as to discourage me from contributing to this fandom ever again - wait, what?)  
P.S. I actually have ideas for future little chapters (in my head only) but I guess this works as a standalone piece?  
P.P.S. The title is uncreative because I am uncreative. Phooey.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time they meet, he is fictional.

* * *

Having a younger sibling can be a real bother, and Elsa is well aware of that fact. In fact, she's certain of the fact that if someone somewhere gave out a "Most Annoying Sibling" award, her darling sister Anna here will win it, no questions asked. Hopefully, when she _does_win it, it will come with a prize that involves replacing Anna with a pony, or something similar.

Indeed, her younger sister never fails to irritate her every single day, and today, of course, is no exception.

Elsa buries her head into her book in dread as Anna tumbles into the room, hair in tangles and clothes askew. She pounces onto Elsa's bed with admirable agility and play-tackles her sister, sending Elsa's book flying. Elsa groans. She can, and probably will never understand how her sister can constantly be filled with such boundless energy. It has to be some sort of special power.

"Elsaaaaaa," Anna whines petulantly, "play with me!"

"Not today, Anna."

Anna bounces onto her sister's lap. "Please, Elsa?" Shoving her face right in front of Elsa's, she attempts to engage Elsa in a staring contest.

"No." Elsa huffs in annoyance and tries to shift the dead-weight of a sister off her, but Anna clutches on to her like a limpet.

"Why?"

"Why, why, why?"

"Whyyyyyyyy?"

After numerous failed attempts of trying to extricate herself from her sister's vice-like grip, Elsa sighs in defeat.

"Go away Anna, I'm... tired."

Immediately regretting that flimsy excuse, Elsa braces herself for the impending – ah here it is – Anna's deadly-yet-innocent puppy-dog expression.

"Pleeeeeeeeaseeeee!"

The unspoken "Or I'll tell Mum!" hangs in the air between the sisters, and Elsa sluggishly crawls off her bed, resigned to her fate.

* * *

Soon, though, the two sisters are out on the grounds, shrieking, laughing and throwing snowballs at each other despite the summer heat. Elsa doesn't know why she possesses ice powers and neither does her parents, but the siblings were definitely making the most out of them.

"Elsa! Elsa!" Anna asks breathlessly, in the aftermath of a particularly exciting snowball fight. "Make a snowman!"

Elsa obliges, and with a careless wave of her wrist, conjures a lopsided snowman out of thin air. Anna claps her hands and jumps up and down in delight.

"He's so cute! I'mma name him... Ralph!"

Elsa ponders a while, and decides to humour her sister.

"Hmm, alright. Hello, my name is Olaf, and I like... hugs!" she announces from behind the snowman, with a voice as deep and gruff as she could manage.

Elsa is immediately pelted by snowballs from Anna, who had started laughing from her poor play-acting.

"It's Ralph, Elsa, not Olaf! Ralph!" Anna falls back on the ground, giggling. "And snowmen can't be hugged or they'll melt!"

"Well," Elsa stubbornly continues with her act, even as Anna continues to lob snowballs at her. "_My_ name is Olaf, and I like hugs! Big hugs! _Warm_hugs!"

With that, the snowball fighting is resumed, and in no time, the courtyard is transformed into a winter wonderland; the icy grounds forming a strange juxtaposition with the clear blue skies and the hot summer sun.

They do not notice the Queen overseeing their antics anxiously from her bedroom window.

* * *

"Elsa, love, I'd like to speak to you for a moment."

It is dusk, and the sisters are stopped in their snow-laden tracks on the way back to their rooms by the Queen. Cocking her head questioningly, Elsa wonders what she did wrong this time, and internally decides to attribute all the blame to Anna - because it's _always_ Anna's fault anyway; real ladies do not make mistakes - for whatever error she had made. Nevertheless, she obediently trots behind their mother to the lounge, because if there is one thing Elsa truly admires about her mother, it is that Queen Marie never uses harsh words on them, preferring instead to reason things out calmly and logically. Elsa likes that - it makes her feel mature and very much like an adult. Anna, ever the nosy one, scampers behind them in curiosity.

"Now, girls, I know you enjoy playing with Elsa's powers, but I would like to remind you once again that these powers, if not controlled properly, can do more harm than good." Queen Marie chastises her daughters gently, as the three settle into couches.

Anna pouts and folds her arms in response, while Elsa merely rolls her eyes. This is a statement they had heard many, many times before.

Their expressions of indifference do not escape their mother's notice. Sighing, The Queen decides to try a different tactic.

"Alright, who'd like a bedtime story later on?"

* * *

The bedtime story idea worked wonders, Queen Maries muses, while on her way to Elsa's bedroom. Then again, both girls are still young, and nothing captures their attention better than a well-written tale, with interesting characters, a happy ending, and of course, a good moral to learn from. Granted, Elsa had initially been reluctant - she had maintained that she was "too old" for bedtime stories - but Anna had insisted on it (much to Elsa's outrage). Since the sisters shared rooms, this meant they both had to listen to it, whether Elsa liked it or not.

She looks down again at her chosen book in contemplation. It is a particularly apt tale, recommended by Pabbie when she had visited the trolls that afternoon for advice on how to make her daughters actually listen to her.

The protagonist of the story had ice powers, but he often used his powers to perform pranks on unwitting citizens. Although the jokes were made in jest, the citizens were not amused and he was highly disliked as a result. During a particular incident, he lost control of his powers and almost drowned a little girl at the lake, and it was only then he realised his folly. Thereafter, he decided to control his powers and only use them for good, and soon he realised that he could have fun _with_ others, without having to make fun _of_ others. He finally got back into the people's good graces when they felt less afraid of him, and in conclusion, all was well.

Queen Marie emerges from her reverie to find herself at the doorway to the girls' shared bedroom, and realises much to her amusement that Anna had decided to sleep in her sister's bed that night. Two curly heads - one silvery-blonde and the other brunette - poke out from beneath Elsa's quilt, and two pairs of eyes - sapphire blue and leaf green - stare at her in anticipation. She laughs and makes her way to Elsa's bed.

"Tonight, I'll tell you a story of a young boy called Jack Frost. He was a very special child, for he had magical powers. Magical, _ice_ powers..."

* * *

"Elsa?"

"Hmm?"

"D'you think Jack's real?"

Elsa does not reply, and Anna turns to face her sister. Elsa is staring at the ceiling in quiet deliberation, the moonlight reflected in her blue eyes.

Anna prods at the creases on her forehead in expectation.

"I... don't know," Elsa finally replies. "Now go to sleep, Anna."

With that, she turns the other way and Anna takes it as a sign to stop talking.

* * *

Anna had finally fallen asleep, but Elsa is still awake.

The story had hit her hard, and had opened her eyes to the threat her powers could pose to her family, especially her beloved sister. For all of Anna's faults and Elsa's grumbling, Anna is still her one and only sibling, and the two of them share a deep bond despite their differences in character. As to whether Jack Frost actually exists... Well, how can she be the only one in the world with such strange abilities? She decides not to tell Anna that she believed in him (a little) though - it is after all unbecoming of grown-ups to believe in such foolish fantasies.

Turning to the window, she makes a promise with no one in particular, only with the unusually bright crescent moon as witness.

_Just you wait and see, Jack Frost. I'll show you - I will do wonders with my powers someday, without endangering anybody. _

_Just wait and see._

* * *

AN: Surprise (or not)! I've had this sitting around for a while now so I decided to just upload it for critique instead before letting this story fade into obscurity once more. Since it's unlikely I'm going to actually complete the rest of the little chapters that's still in my brain - yep, I'm still lazy and not used to writing - this will still be marked "complete" (unless someone's willing to be my personal cheerleader? No? Okay then...) although I may or may not spring another "surprise" chapter in the future.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time they meet, she is free.

* * *

One moment he is flying over to play with Jamie and the children, and the next moment he is waking up dazed in North's Workshop, having been thrown, yet again, unceremoniously onto the ground by North's loyal Yetis. Disgruntled, he is helped to his feet by the perpetrator himself, who proceeds to engulf him in a bone-shattering hug.

"Look here, old man," he grumbles, after North has released him from his grip. "While I appreciate the, er, warm welcome, let's try not to make this a routine, shall we?"

"Well, you yourself know very well how – how shall I put it – _responsive_, you are to my signals," North actually has the audacity to laugh unabashedly at his plight, that shameless old man.

Heaving a sigh, he leans against his staff in resignation, clutching his temple with three fingers. "What is it this time? Please don't tell me you… you lost an elf on the other side of the world and want me to bring him back again or, did you accidentally melt all the ice in the South Pole again and want me to replenish them, or… Wait, no, don't tell me, the kangaroo and Toothiana got into another argument –"

"No, no, no, wrong on all counts," North booms heartily, chortling in amusement. "Jack, I summoned you here because you have mission to –"

"No, sorry, I'm not listening to this. I don't have time for this, the kids need me," he interrupts North's sentence with a dispassionate flick of his wrist, and makes to leave the room.

"This is not just any mission, Jack. You were specifically chosen by Man in Moon; this is very important mission!"

"Did global warming accelerate? Did Pitch return? What can be more important than the –"

"Listen, Jack. There is a child – no, a young woman – who is also the Queen of Arendelle, and she needs some guidance –" North tries to interject, but he snorts in disdain, effectively cutting off North's sentence yet again.

"Wait, are you actually telling me – is the Man on the Moon actually telling me – to go off to some unknown land to baby some spoilt princess? No, there is no way I am –"

"She is not –"

"– going to do that. I'm a guardian, old man. I have _responsibilities_! Over _children_! She's definitely _not _a child. And I'm definitely, _definitely_ not going there to be her babysitter."

An uncharacteristic gravity quickly replaces North's usually jolly features, and he feels a little guilty at his sudden outburst. He winces in apology, and hurriedly motions at North to continue.

"Thank you, Jack. This girl – no, woman – is like you. She has powers of ice. However, unlike you, her fear has made her the victim of her own power…"

"…You know what comes with fear, don't you?"

After giving him time to digest the facts, North can only smile wryly, as a look of realisation and horror dawns upon his face.

So he has realised the implications, after all.

* * *

She keeps on running aimlessly, blinded by panic.

Her secret, the one she had tried so hard to keep all these years, was finally out, and the consequences were disastrous.

How was she to go back to face her people and her sister – _especially_ her sister – again?

The fear and terror coursing through her body lend her legs unbridled strength and adrenaline, and she easily crosses the fjord and the forests of the kingdom that is now hers. After what seems like an eternity, she finally slows down, only to find herself at a familiar cliff, shielded from public eye by a large expanse of trees. Two large stones loom overhead, the weak morning sun casting two long shadows out into the open waters. She is not surprised that her sub-consciousness has brought her here; this is, after all, the only place she is most at ease, and the only place she can let her guard down.

Nervously checking over her shoulder once again to make sure that she is not being pursued, she approaches the two towering stones cautiously. Stretching out her hand, she places it on the nearest boulder, and immediately withdraws it as a thin layer of ice spreads across its surface.

Suddenly feeling faint, she makes her way towards the edge of the cliff, her legs finally giving way at the foot of the rock. Collapsing to the ground, she clutches her hands to her chests and leans sideways against the rock in exhaustion, listening to the rhythmic sound of the crashing waves and squawking seagulls beneath the cliff. A sudden sense of peace washes over her as she huddles closer into the stone, and she suddenly feels ten years old again – ten, safe, sound and loved.

A tear rolls unbidden down her cheek, and she hurriedly wipes it away, struggling to keep her emotions in check.

"Mum? Dad? It's me, again," she starts with forced cheerfulness, softly running her hands on the surface of the aged stone, made smooth by the years of constant battering of rain and snow.

"It's my coronation day today, and I'm finally the Queen of Arendelle. Aren't you proud of me, Mum? I told you I would make a wonderful lady someday, and here I am now," she chuckles lightly, as the words of her younger self echo in her head. How silly she was, back then, and yet her mother had always played along.

"There was a slight mishap, though. Just a _slight_ one, don't you or Dad worry too much," she hastily corrects herself. Then again, she feels ten – ten, guilty, nervous and who had to confess to breaking one of her dad's priceless vases once while playing with Anna.

"It's just that I, uhm, accidentally lost control of my powers in front of the whole of Arendelle. At my coronation. There. I said it. No big deal right, dad? It was Anna's fault, as usual, you know – she wanted to go off and marry a stranger she had only met last evening! You definitely wouldn't have approved, Mum. She had only met him _that evening_, seriously, and it's like she doesn't have… "

Her awkward soliloquy falters as the image of Anna's shocked – and hurt – expression flashes across her mind. She had almost killed her sister that evening, again. A second tear rolls down her cheek, but this time, she pays no heed to it, or to the light shower of snow that had started falling all around her.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being able to control my powers. I'm sorry for almost injuring Anna this evening. I'm sorry for not being able to rule Arendelle like you did. I'm sorry for not being able to be the good girl I know I'm supposed to be."

"But," she chokes and holds back a sob, as myriad emotions suddenly well up inside her. "I've tried, Dad. I've tried so hard, year after year, to conceal and to not feel… I didn't even talk to Anna at all and I couldn't even tell her why I had to treat her that way, and she was so mad, so confused, so lonely… But she wouldn't understand, didn't know how scared, how confused and how lonely _I _am as well… And… and…"

Her sudden outburst quietens to a whisper. "Dad, I've tried _so hard_, I don't know how to cope with this, I don't know who to turn to, and I don't know what to do… Dad, I'm all out of options… What should I do now?"

The silent gravestones offer her no answers in the swirl of snow, and for the first time in what feels like forever, she finally breaks down into tears.

* * *

"Why don't you just… let it go?"

A sudden voice from behind her startles her, and she jumps to her feet in fright. Whipping around swiftly, she barely has time to register the intruder – a young boy in blue crouching on the low branches of a tree – before her instincts take over and she sprints away from the cliff and into the other side of the forest.

* * *

"Hey – wait up! I'm not your enemy!"

_She certainly is agile for a pampered royalty_, he internally groans, as he leaps from the branches and dashes after her in hot pursuit. Then again, he thinks, hiding in the tree was probably not a good idea. She was obviously distressed and afraid and he had only made things worse. Well, no time for regrets now anyway. If only these trees weren't so dense, though. They severely limited his flying capabilities and he isn't as fast on ground as he would've been in the air.

After a long chase through the impossibly thick forest, he finally corners her at the foot of a mountain range. Her eyes dart nervously at her surroundings, anxiously searching for an escape, before she evidently gives up, opting instead to drop to a defensive posture.

"Who are you? Who sent you? I'm not coming with you without a fight," she hisses in contempt.

"Relax, princess. I come in peace," he drops his staff on the ground and raises his hands in surrender.

She narrows her eyes in distrust, but he notices that her shoulders have loosened just a tiny fraction, and he takes that as an invitation to continue.

"You're Elsa, right? Nice to meet you, Elsa. I'm Jack Frost, and I know who you are, and what you can do," he says, stepping forward and offering a hand to her in a gesture of goodwill.

She does not take it, but the look of contempt in her eyes is replaced by one of confusion and… was that a glimmer of recognition?

"Jack… Frost…?"

"The one and only," he smirks proudly, bowing slightly.

"You… exist?"

"You believe in me, so, yeah, I guess."

"No, wait. This is absurd," she shakes her head roughly, as though attempting to clear her mind. "I don't believe you. Jack Frost is just a character from a fairy tale. Tell me who you are right now, and I won't hurt you," she retorts in defiance, slowly backing up against the mountain.

"Hold up. A character from _fairy tale_? Me? Seriously, princess, you wound me," he replies in incredulity, and realises that maybe she needed solid proof to be convinced. Shaking his head in mock disappointment, he conjures a snowflake in his palm, and mentally cheers as her look of stubborn disbelief is replaced by that of a child-like wonder.

"So…" she stumbles backwards, trying to process this new information. "He _is_ real."

He grins in response.

"Well spotted, princess."

* * *

"You overheard my, er, conversation?"

They have moved to a riverbank near the mountains, and are side by side, a considerable distance apart from each other. She is nervously tugging at the grass next to her, while he is lying back and staring at the sky in contemplation.

"Well, not all of it. Just the last part – when you said you didn't know what to do," he replies.

"And you told me to what, just let it go?" she snorts in derision.

"Yeah, just let it go. Embrace your powers. Don't fear it, because the more you fear and try to control it, the more it controls you."

"My father always said to control and to not show –"

"Tch, adults don't know what they're doing half the time anyway."

"Don't say that about my father! He was a great man!" she splutters in response. "Anyway, I can't just – I don't know – go round and exhibit my powers like you can! I have to take care of my people, not injure them! They already see me as a monster, who know what they'll do if I just go all out and –" she jumps up in distress. He follows suit.

"Then just leave! Leave this town! Go somewhere far away where you can be who you are!" he retaliates, a challenging look in his steel grey eyes. "And you're _definitely_ not a monster!"

"I can't! I can't just run off like that! I'm an adult now, and I have duties –" she cries out, almost at her wit's end.

"Why live with people who can't accept your powers?"

"You don't understand! I'm a Queen! I'm not like you – you just run around all day playing with children… You don't have responsibilities, while I have so much to worry about, and my sister –"

She stops short. His expression has turned guarded, and she feels like she has hit a raw nerve. Unable to take the pressure anymore, she turns and does what she is most familiar in doing – running away.

This time, however, he does not give chase.

* * *

The cold wind and high altitudes clear her head, and she thinks back to her argument with the boy who called himself Jack Frost. She was right, of course, but his suggestion seems oddly tempting.

Let it go, eh? Well, she is alone now, so it couldn't possibly harm anybody…

As she freely creates a shower of snow for the first time in nearly fifteen years, she lets out a laugh of exhilaration and glee.

* * *

He trudges through the snow deep in thought.

How could she do that? She basically implied that he only knew how to have fun and did not know how to handle responsibilities. He was a Guardian, for goodness sakes. Of course he had responsibilities! However, he couldn't deny that her words still held a lot of truth. He had annoyed the other Guardians many a time by shirking many of his obligations that did not involve a certain degree of fun, and North could attest to that. Nevertheless, he was right, of course, and she had to learn to see the fun in things too.

Still, he is concerned for her well-being, since she had evidently suffered a lot emotionally the entire day. Stiffening his resolve, he takes flight, following her footsteps up the mountain…

…only to be greeted by the most magnificent castle he has ever seen, made entirely out of ice.

* * *

AN: I know, I know, I said I wouldn't be back, but it was too cold out and the cold bothers me a lot, and so I ended up rewatching Rise of the Guardians instead of soaking in the winter air. Yeah. Major distortion of timelines here but it had to be done for this chapter to make sense (not that it originally did - I confused myself a lot writing the conversations and arguments because they evidently only made sense in my head and not on the screen) - let's just pretend that Arendelle's the only medieval country in modern day, or something.  
Nevertheless, critique is muchly appreciated. Is Elsa too uptight? Is Jack too childish? (Do opposite personalities attract?) Tell me!  
P.S. This chapter is dedicated to my reviewers, followers and favourite-rs. And to my parents (though they don't know it), who inspired the scene with Elsa and the cliff (it was a cliff they were buried on right? Right?)


End file.
